A Voice From the Past
by Jerathai
Summary: Norm never forgot. Neither did Eywa. (Kleenex alert!)


Norm approached _Utral Aymokriya_ reluctantly. For weeks his adopted clan brothers and sisters had been eagerly queuing up in a surprisingly orderly fashion for a turn at making _tsaheylu_ with the new Tree.

Mo'at, Neytiri, and the other tsahiks had had their hands full with the logistics of getting hundreds of groups organized and assigning warriors to escort the parties out and back. The new Tree was young and therefore small, so in the interests of affording individuals as much privacy as possible the size of each group was correspondingly tiny. That, of course, meant that a huge number of groups had to be organized.

The most heart-damaged were sent out to _Utral Aymokriya_ first. Despite the fact that over three years had elapsed since the war with the _tawtute_, there were a great number of Omatikaya needing the solace of that connection to their departed loved ones. Each group had an hour or so with the Tree and then could find a quiet spot nearby to gather themselves, or to speak with one of the tsahiks on site if they wished. This went on round the clock for weeks until everyone had had at least one chance to make _tsaheylu._

Norm had expressed his surprise at the self-disclipline the Omatikaya exhibited to Tanhi one day. She explained, "Everyone knows that they will soon have the opportunity to connect to Eywa or to hear those who have gone to Her very soon. We have already waited over three years, so what is a few days more? The People know that those who are heart-wounded are those most in need of hearing Her. Those with the worst wounds are cared for first, always. She tells the tsahiks who they are, so everyone knows that their needs will be tended to at the appropriate time. So we are content to wait."

He shook his head in amazement at the simplicity of it all. The clan felt like a popcorn popper about to burst with excitement, but except for eager discussions everywhere the daily activities were going on as usual. Norm was absolutely shocked at the healer's next words.

"I have spoken with Mo'at to make sure that she will be including you in one of the groups that will be going to the Tree soon. She says that you should be prepared in three or four days' time to join a party traveling to _Utral Aymokriya._ There will not be a great deal of time on this first visit, but there will be more in days to come," Tanhi said in satisfaction.

The scientist was floored, and stammered, "I don't need to spend time with the Tree, I'd be glad to give my place to someone else who needs it more than I do."

The healer frowned. "You have not had a chance to make _tsaheylu_ with any of the Sacred Trees at all, and you still grieve for those you lost in the Great War. You are as heart-wounded as any in the Clan, and you are Olo'eyktan of the dreamwalkers besides." Her frown deepened, "You should have been sent to _Utral Aymokriya_ before this. For an Olo'eyktan to be so wounded is a bad thing for his entire clan. I should speak to Mo'at and see if she can send you sooner. Maybe with one of today's groups, since you are here now?"

"No, no! Don't trouble yourself! I mean, it's okay, if everything's already been arranged we don't have to mess up anyone else's trip, do we? I can wait, I don't mind at all..." He had to talk fast to smooth Tanhi's ruffled feathers, as she seemed quite peeved that he hadn't been a higher priority. Norm finally managed to divert her by asking questions about healing herbs she was in need of, but he could tell that she gave in only reluctantly.

He was able to divert the healer, but found out there was no chance of diverting Mo'at. He linked in to his avatar four days later, ate breakfast as fast as he could, and had just grabbed a carry net to head out with the earliest gathering-crews when the Tsahik appeared out of nowhere right in front of him.

"Put the net back, you are leaving for the Tree of Voices with the first party this morning," she informed him firmly.

"But..." he began to object.

Neytiri's mother took the net out of his hand and steered him by the shoulder out to where a group of _pa'li_ were already waiting. "You have not heard Eywa for yourself, and there are those with Her that you must hear." She shoved him towards the six-legged beasts. "Mount. Ride. An'nai is at the Tree this morning if you need to speak afterwards. Go."

He didn't have any choice. He went. So now he was here, standing in front of a glowing purple willow tree, feeling foolish and embarrassed. The three other Omatikaya who had come with him had spaced themselves out around the Tree and had already joined their queues to it, leaving him a small clear spot to himself.

An'nai walked up to him and smiled encouragingly, seeing his difficulty. She took his arm gently and motioned to a smooth patch of ground before them. "Here. Mo'at told me that you have not made _tsaheylu_ with a Sacred Tree before. It is the same as making _tsaheylu_ with a _pa'li_, but much better. Sit here." She guided him to a comfortable position on the ground and gently brought a glowing purple strand towards him as he reached for his queue.

Norm couldn't quite keep his voice from trembling as he asked, "What will I hear?"

An'nai smiled again and patted his shoulder in comfort, "Whatever your heart needs to hear," and backed away to give him privacy.

His hand shook a bit as he brought the strand and his queue-end together. _ I can do this. Jake's done it a few times and it hasn't hurt him. I'll be okay. _The tendrils of his queue eagerly wrapped themselves around the frond.

Norm's pupils dilated as his attention was immediately captured by sensations he'd never experienced before. The bond with the _pa'li_ he'd understood; connection to another creature, though mind-blowing, was limited enough in scope that he could wrap his head around it.

This was nothing like that.

There was nothing 'limited' about what he experienced now, and he was as much a part of it, literally, as his own blood was part of his body. He was still Norm, still himself, but at the same time part of something so vast that there was no telling where 'it' ended.

And 'it' was alive.

Alive and joyous, and it _cared_. About _him._ About him and every other part of 'itself,' with the same joy a parent feels for beloved children.

Norm was so completely absorbed in what he was experiencing that he was completely unconscious of the tears that began flowing down his face.

He felt everything 'he' was being cradled by this awareness with such exquisite care that it took his breath away. Guilt and shame surfaced in him – he wasn't Na'vi, he was human, and hadn't humans been killing Na'vi almost since the moment they'd come to Pandora?

Norm sensed regret and sorrow but it wasn't directed at him, only at those who refused to See. He tentatively offered his own feelings of regret and apology – and was immediately enveloped in a cocoon of warm, loving acceptance. It felt like a hug for the soul.

There was a brief moment when the sensation drew back, as if the vast sentience had turned its attention elsewhere. There was a sense of a window of sorts being presented to him. It wasn't a thing he could actually "see" through, but it was definitely meant to allow him to connect to something. He tentatively reached out and 'touched' it.

A well-remembered and beloved voice immediately rang in his awareness. Strong, hearty laughter from someone who was obviously whole, healthy, and full of joy. All of his attention locked onto the sound, like a drowning man who'd been given a life ring. He drank it in and felt it fill the hollow, hurting places that he'd tried to deny these past three years. There was no doubt in his heart or mind that the woman he was listening to was, in some inexplicable way, alive and well, as happy and cared for – as he was.

As she quietly backed up to give her clan-brother as much privacy as possible, An'nai heard the dreamwalker whisper a single word.

"Trudy..."


End file.
